Nina had expected her great-great uncle's house to be like
mansions in the movies, with marble columns and rose gardens, not
peeling paint and a weed- filled lawn. But Dad explained that Waldo
hated spending money, except on his collections.
Nina's parents thought the kids were playing outside. Instead,
they snuck into the candlelit parlor.
"Your Mom will freak out if she catches us," Nina's cousin Max
muttered.
"I know. But Uncle Waldo traveled a lot and I never got to meet
him while he was alive. I just want to see what he looks like."
"At least turn on some lights," Max grumbled. "This is creepy."
"Didn't you hear the lawyer talking to Mom and Dad? Uncle Waldo
called the parlor his 'candle room.' He never had it wired for
electricity." She crept over to the coffin and peered inside.
Waldo wore a tuxedo with a ruffled shirt and red cummerbund. His
white hair was neatly combed, his nails manicured, and his diamond
stickpin and silver cufflinks glittered in the candlelight.
"He looks nice," Nina whispered.
Max took one glance inside, then pulled Nina away from the
coffin. "Weird," he said. "I didn't think people wore tuxedos when
they were buried."
"He liked it. Dad said Uncle Waldo even had his portrait painted
wearing this exact same outfit. He put it in his will that he wanted
to be dressed for his funeral exactly the way he is in that
portrait."
Max shivered. "I wonder who had to dress him?"
"Harvey, Waldo's assistant."
"Like a butler?"
"Sort of."
"So he really was rich. Hey, your Dad was kidding about
inheriting twenty cents, right?"
Nina led her cousin back down the hall. "Well, Waldo did leave
Dad two dimes. But Mercury is facing the wrong way or something, and
that makes them worth a lot of money. Mom said it was enough to pay
my way through college someday."
"Cool."
"Uncle Waldo's daughter, Fiona, inherited the house and all this
stuff." They entered the study where Nina's parents were talking to
the lawyer, Mr. Baxter. Max gawked at Waldo's "collections." Display
cases everywhere were filled with jewel-encrusted objects.
Harvey, Waldo's assistant, handed glasses of lemonade to the
kids, then left. Nina thought he looked as sour as the drink tasted.
"Fiona arrived earlier, but you probably won't see her until the
funeral tomorrow," the lawyer was saying. "Waldo requested burial
near his gazebo. Harvey will dig the grave himself."
"Poor Harvey," Dad murmured.
Baxter nodded. "At least Waldo set up a trust that will continue
to pay Harvey's salary, small as it is. Now, would you like to see
the dimes?"
In the master bedroom upstairs, the lawyer twirled the
combination lock on a wall safe while Nina studied the painting of
Waldo that hung above the fireplace. Decked out in his tux, ruffled
shirt, jade cufflinks and diamond stickpin, he seemed to wink down
at her.
Baxter removed a box from the safe and opened it.
Everyone gasped. The box was empty.
"Impossible!" the older man exclaimed. "They were here an hour
ago."
"The safe isn't damaged," Mom remarked. "How many people know
the combination?".
He frowned. "Just myself, Fiona and Harvey. I'd better call the
police."
"Go ahead," Dad said. "But no matter who stole the dimes,
they're small enough to be hidden anywhere. Even if the police tear
the house apart, I'll bet they never find them."
Nina stood up, staring at the portrait. "I think I know who took
the dimes," she whispered to Max. "And if I'm right, I know where
they are."